Four
by Zohh
Summary: Four reasons why Artie isn't right for Brittany and the four times he realizes it.  Brittany/Santana.  Two-shot.
1. Reasons

**Author's note: **I love Arite. I really do. But like. Brittany needs to be with Santana. Everyone knows it.

* * *

___One._

She often didn't understand things, but he couldn't always explain them to her. She would get confused easily, wondering about things such as how the square root of four was two when _clearly_ it was rainbows (at least, that's what her unicorn friend had told her, and unicorns never lie).

He told her that rainbows weren't numbers, and that the answer had to be a number because it was math class. Again, she didn't understand because math sometimes used letters like X and Z, or weird symbols that sort of looked like fish.

* * *

Santana explained that because two times two equals four, the square root of four has to be two. Brittany wrinkled her nose, asking if that meant the square root of nine was three instead of sunshine, and Santana smiled.

* * *

_Two._

She was a dancer, always moving around, but the most he could do was wave his arms in the air. Though she didn't quite understand why, she was never bothered by the fact that he couldn't move his legs_. _She just settled for dancing around him, swaying her hips and kicking up her feet while he moved his head and waved his arms.

Once, she tried to get him to slow dance with her, until he reminded her that he couldn't get up from his chair. She was okay with that, claiming that "fast dancing is like, way better anyway." He thought it was okay, too, until he remembered that they could never slow dance at prom.

* * *

Santana was definitely the second best dancer out of the girls in glee club. She could move her hips and legs almost exactly like Brittany, and the two used to always dance and twirl and jump with each other during glee. Santana could keep her hands on Brittany's swaying hips, their legs moving in unison. Whenever a slow song was sung, usually by Rachel, Brittany couldn't help but think about school dances.

* * *

_Three._

She sometimes got lost and needed someone to keep her close by and on track, but they could never really travel side-by-side. Whenever they did, going down the hallways of McKinley High, his hands were occupied with pushing the wheels of his chair. Her hands would then either grasp firmly onto her glitter-covered notebooks, or hang by her side, lonely.

He couldn't hold her hands unless they were both sitting. She only brought up that fact once, but was seemingly content with just pushing him around, pretending he was a really big baby in a stroller. When she would get lost in the halls, on her way to class, he thought it was because the classroom numbers confused her; he never really thought that it was because he couldn't keep her close by and guide her through school.

* * *

Santana used to always hold her pinky, never forgetting to entwine their smallest fingers. Sometimes, when Brittany would get confused and turn the wrong corner towards her history class instead of her math class, Santana (and her pinky) was always there with a gentle tug, reminding the blonde that she had to learn about fractions and not the Civil War. Santana held onto her while they stood or talked, and Brittany always went the right way to math class.

* * *

_Four._

She was rather tall for a girl, but she had to bend over anytime she wanted to talk to him more closely. Really, anytime they wanted to be close, she had to bend awkwardly over his wheelchair, straining the muscles in her back.

She never complained about it, or anything, and he never saw it as a problem. But every so often she would mention her back hurting or her neck being stiff. He assumed that it was from Cheerios, but once she had quit, the thought that her pain could due to his cumbersome wheelchair.

* * *

Santana was only a few of inches shorter than Brittany, at best. They were, for the most, at eye-level, and there was no awkward bending and inconvenient chairs in the way anytime they wanted whisper closely or hug. All Santana had to was place her weight on the tips of her toes, her heels hovering over the ground, and her lips could easily be on Brittany's.


	2. Realizations

_One._

They were sitting in the choir room, waiting for glee club to begin, with books sprawled open on their laps. Brittany's eyebrows were furrowed and Santana was trying not to roll her eyes.

"But I don't get it. Where are the mockingbirds? Did the Girl Scout kill them?"

"You mean Scout, the narrator?"

Brittany shrugged. "I guess, if that's her name. I just thought it was because she was a Girl Scout."

Santana sighed. "Remember when the dad said that killing a mockingbird is pretty much the worst thing ever?"

Brittany shook her head. "I don't even remember the last time I went to the bathroom."

Removing himself from the bustle of the hallway, Artie rolled into the choir room. He was early for glee club, but he had seen his girlfriend sitting in a chair. He was about to call at her name, but stopped himself as he noticed Santana was there, watching as she reached over her lap and flipped through the pages of the book laying on Brittany's legs. She pointed to something on the page, speaking calmly, and Brittany's eyes suddenly lit up.

"I get it now!" She grinned proudly. "It's about doing good things versus bad things!"

"Yeah, B." Santana's lips twitched upwards. "You got it."

Artie's face fell. He had tried explaining that book to her yesterday.

* * *

_Two._

Mr. Shuester had them singing a Jackson Five song. Despite a few murmured protests, everyone had gotten up from their seats and started dancing.

Artie was harmonizing with Puck, the two moving (as best as they could, considering one was bound by a wheelchair) zealously to the beat. He searched the room as he sung, wanting Brittany to come back and dance with him, but she was in the middle of the room with Santana.

"Shake it, shake it baby! Ooh-ooh!"

Santana spun Brittany around and she laughed wildly, shaking her body. Brittany moved closer, bumping her hips and shoulder into Santana's, both of them laughing again as they threw their heads back. They continued to dance, definitely outdoing everyone else in the club.

Artie turned his head away and decided to sing with Mercedes and Tina.

* * *

_Three._

Santana straightened her headband, waiting for Brittany to finish getting everything from her locker.

"Math, B."

"Oh, right!" She put back her English book and pulled out a binder that said _MATH_ in glittery, rainbow letters.

"You ready?"

Brittany nodded and closed her locker door.

"Hey, Britt,"

"Hi, Artie!" She bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I have to go to...math now."

"That's okay." He smiled. "I'll see you in glee."

"Yeah!"

He watched Brittany follow Santana down the hallway, careless as their pinkies hooked - they had been doing that since grade school. Brittany stumbled, trying to turn left down a corner while Santana continued to walk straight.

"Math is this way,"

"Oh, right!"

Artie frowned. Whenever he went with her to math, she always turned left.

* * *

_Four._

The sound of the roaring audience had been washed out. Each face meshed together in a blur of happy and polite smiles. If this was a movie, loud, adrenaline rush-inducing instrumental music would be playing in the background. But this wasn't a movie. This was real.

_They were going to Nationals_.

Artie's mouth was opened wide, emitting a screaming cheer along with the rest of the New Directions. He felt warm hands on his shoulder and looked up, expecting to see Brittany, bit was slightly surprised to see Mercedes instead. She beamed down at him, chanting, "We're going to New York!"

He nodded excitedly in return, but craned his neck around to to try and find Brittany in the screaming group. His mouth remained open, but no sound came out. Mercedes was still chanting behind him as Mr. Shuester handed Finn the large trophy and he held it up above their heads.

Brittany had her hands on Santana's face, kissing her.

There was no awkward or annoying bending. No inconvenient wheelchair. No significant height difference. Just two bodies that seemed to have fit perfectly together.

Artie looked away and Coach Sylvester punched the announcer in the face.

* * *

**Author's note: **Yeah. The last one is a regionals rewrite. 'Cause I'm cool like that.

ALSO. I really think they _do_ need to sing Jackson Five's _ABC _on the show because I want to see Brittany shake it, shake it baby.


End file.
